His touch leaves my chin and cups the back of my head instead. I close my eyes and try to calm my trembling. Something warm and oh so soft brushes over my lips. Feather soft. Barely there. It tingles. Another brush. This one is firmer. A gentle caress. Tender. Coaxing.
He moves over my lips. Awakening something within me. My toes curl and a soft moan escapes me. His hand moves through my hair and pushes me in closer. His kiss is firm now. My lips helplessly following his. My heart is pumping fast and strong. My mind is scattered. My every nerve ending is on fire.
What is happening to me? I don’t understand. This all feels so strange. Kissing is so much better than I ever imagined. But I never expected it to affect me so viscerally.
His tongue slips into my mouth. A louder, more insistent moan escapes me. My body presses shamelessly against his.
The mattress bounces against my back, and I squeak in surprise. I hadn’t felt him move me. Now I’m on the bed and he is above me. Deepening this kiss.
His hand slides under my nightgown and up my leg. His touch is ice against my burning skin. I shudder.
The kiss stops. He stares down at me. His eyes are wide and dark. His lips are swollen and wet.
“Okay?” he asks.
I nod. I don’t know why we have stopped. Did I do something wrong? I thought the kissing was going well.
His hand reaches the top of my leg. It slides across my stomach. Towards my cock. Surely not? I gasp. He freezes with his hand mere millimeters from my straining erection.
“Has anyone ever touched you here?” he asks.
I force a swallow down my throat. “In the early days of my training. My trainer…to teach my body about pleasure. But I then needed to learn that my pleasure does not come from there.”
A stricken look crosses over Felford’s face. He closes his eyes for a long moment and takes in a deep breath. Is he disappointed?
“I would like to touch you here, is that alright?” asks Felford.
What is the correct answer? What does he want to hear? I don’t know. A strange, panicked whimper comes out of me.
Felford catches it with another kiss. Soft, yet insistent. My heart rate slows. My anxiety recedes. Everything is so much better when he is pressed against me.
He breaks away from the kiss. “I’m sorry, Lucien.”
I suck in a breath. Why is he sorry? He has done nothing wrong. I’m the one who is terrible at this.
“I’m going to play with your cock and you’re going to be a good boy for me, aren’t you?”
My body goes crazy. My cock throbs, my stomach flutters, my heart skips several beats. My mind spins and a deep, deep joy fills me.
“Yes, yes!” I nod frantically.
Doing as I am told is something I can do. I excel at it. This is marvelous. I finally have a way to earn his approval.
Felford smiles softly. A dark, pleased smile. Full of promise. I want to look at it forever.
“I understand now,” he says.
I have no idea what he understands, but as his fingers wrap around my cock, I lose all ability to form coherent thoughts. I’m carried away to a sea of ecstasy and elation, and I think it is going to be a very long time before I return.
Chapter thirteen
Drew
Ishould leave before Lucien wakes. I don’t want him to wake up and find me looming over him. The last thing I want is to startle the poor boy. But watching him sleep is mesmerizing. His cheeks are still flushed and his hair all messy. I could watch him for hours. He looks utterly adorable.
Once I figured out that clear orders are the way to make him comfortable, bedding him was a joy. So responsive. So eager to please. So sweet.
I liked it far too much.
Liked it far more than gaining this magic that is surging through me.
I truly am wicked. A lost cause. But in my defense, the way Lucien clung to me, the soft noises he made, the look in his eyes as if pleasure were astonishing? Nobody could withstand that. It was incredible.
I’m going to have to research the BDSM lifestyle. I never imagined myself as a Dom. I was making it up as I went. But if it’s what Lucien needs, I have to know what I am doing. For both our sakes.
It is wonderful that emptying him went so well. I had been braced for him to be terrified the entire time and for it to be an ordeal for both of us. This is far more than I hoped for, and I cannot risk it all to chance. Next time he is ripe, I need to know what I am doing.
I take a deep breath and reluctantly leave Lucien’s bedchamber. No doubt he will be all flustered and uneasy when he wakes up. I’m sure he will prefer privacy and a chance to gather his wits.
My feet take me to my study, and nearly to the drinks cabinet. But I stop myself just in time. I have some cigars in my desk drawer. I’ll have one of those instead.
I find them quickly, but no lighter. It’s decadent to use magic, but there is no one here to disapprove. Besides, I have so much power now, thanks to Lucien, I need to use it for something.
The fragrant smoke fills my lungs and soothes my thoughts. Gods, that’s better. I needed that.
Marriage has certainly filled my life with ups and downs. I’m still reeling from the discovery that Lucien is not a champion of the traditions I hate, but a victim of them. How could I have been so blind?
More importantly, how could Lucien’s parents do that to him? Do they not love him at all? Did they truly only want a well-trained little chess piece? But to what end? I’m truly no great catch and certainly not one to be enthralled by a biddable vessel. Did they originally have their sights set on someone else?
